


When Our Eyes Meet

by Rainbow Umbrella (aesungie)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, First Kiss, Fluff, Haircuts, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Beta Read We Die Like Hyukjae after he irritates Yeye one too many times, Pandemic - Freeform, Tom and Jerry vibes, lockdown - Freeform, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesungie/pseuds/Rainbow%20Umbrella
Summary: Yesung decides Hyukjae needs a haircut.Hyukjae disagrees.Chaos ensues (of course).
Relationships: Kim Jongwoon | Yesung/Lee Hyukjae | Eunhyuk
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	When Our Eyes Meet

“Hyukjae please, it’s killing me.”

“Hyung, no, I’m the one who’s going to die if you come any closer.” Hyukjae said, backing away slowly from the man in front of him, warily eyeing the pair of scissors he is brandishing in his right hand.

“Hyukjae.” Yesung’s voice is low and threatening, and Hyukjae would be lying if he said that didn’t intimidate him. “You have to let me do this.”

“But hyung, what’s wrong with the way my hair is right now?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? It’s a genuine question, I don’t think you can see through that curtain of hair over your eyes.”

“A bold statement for you to make, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your forehead in the 3 years we’ve lived together!”

“At least I’m not going blind, and had the sense to cut it before we’ve been stuck in the house for two months!”

The two roommates glare at each other, having a silent showdown, neither of them breaking eye contact. Hyukjae knows that Yesung won’t back down so easily, the man can be aggravatingly stubborn when it comes to something he really wants to do.

It just so happened that, unfortunately for Hyukjae, Yesung is currently hell bent on giving him a haircut. “It’s bothering me,” he had said over breakfast that morning. “I don’t know how you can stand it growing out like that.”

He knows that his hyung is right. His hair hasn’t been cut since well before the lockdown started — _owing to my own laziness_ , he thinks ruefully — and it was now starting to get extremely irritating, falling over his eyes constantly and getting annoyingly sweaty at his neck.

Yesung breaks the silence first.

“Come on, Hyukjae, you know I’m not bad at giving haircuts.”

Hyukjae still doesn’t respond, but he has to admit that his hyung is right about that too. He’s seen the haircuts he’d given to Jongjin, and sometimes to his father, and they’d been perfectly alright. Knowing that he has no valid reason to refuse, Hyukjae sighs, and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Fine,” he says, after a few more seconds of silence. “You can cut my hair.” He tries not to think about the way Yesung’s dark eyes light up in joy after being given permission to go ahead with his plan. “But so help me God, if you make me look like a clown I will-”

“Shut up, you idiot, have you no faith in me?” Yesung mock-pouts, before dragging Hyukjae to his room. He pulls out a chair near his desk, places it in the middle of the room, forces Hyukjae down onto it, and then proceeds to gather his supplies.

Hyukjae’s mind is running a mile a minute.

_Ugh, why did I ever agree to this? I really don’t like the look of those scissors. Can I just jump out the window?_

Yesung returns shortly with his arms full of stuff, which he places one by one on to a small table nearby. He straightens up, and his expression softens when he looks at his dongsaeng.

“Relax, Hyuk-ah.” Hyukjae wonders if Yesung can secretly read minds or if it is just that obvious that he’s terrified. “It’s only a haircut. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Hyukjae wants to point out that there are, in fact, a lot of disastrous results when it comes to haircuts, but the words die in his throat because Yesung is suddenly standing right behind him, draping a towel over his shoulders.

“Close your eyes,” and Hyukjae obeys the soft voice, as he feels a mist of water settle in his hair. _“It’s easier to cut that way,”_ Yesung had told him once, when he’d enquired about the spray bottle he’d been holding before cutting his brother’s hair.

Small fingers run through the fine strands of now damp hair, followed by a comb, flattening the hair to his scalp and bringing out the uneven ends. He hears a soft snip at the back of his head, and a lock of hair falls gracefully to the floor.

He feels the comb pulling at the strands of his hair, the ends being trimmed off, and the light brush of Yesung’s fingers as he takes up the next lock and repeats the process. It is nothing he hasn’t felt a hundred times before at various barber shops, but that fact that it’s Yesung’s hands ghosting over his skin makes him hyper-aware of the situation he’s in.

A low hum fills the air, punctuated by the quiet snipping of the scissors. It’s the melody of a song that Hyukjae remembers hearing on the radio, but he thinks it sounds much better coming from Yesung’s deep voice. It soothes him; he finds that his fear has miraculously vanished, and contemplates for the thousandth time the possibility that he had accidentally moved in with a siren. _Normal humans don’t have voices like that, right?_

When Yesung’s hands gently cradle his head to move it, Hyukjae’s breath hitches. It tingles where smooth, warm skin meets his, and he wants to melt into the sensation of being held so tenderly, after two months of no real contact with another person, and many months before that since he’s been touched so intimately.

 _It’s just a haircut_ , he reminds himself, trying to snap out of it. _Just a simple haircut._

Yesung shifts to the side, clipping off the hair that falls so messily over his ears, eventually moving his way to the front to tackle the bangs, which do really act like curtains for his eyes at this point. He places his knee on the chair between Hyukjae’s legs to balance himself, his hands momentarily holding Hyukjae under the chin to keep his head steady, and as he leans over, Hyukjae finds it suddenly difficult to breathe. 

The humming that had been emanating steadily from Yesung’s throat fades away as he focuses on shaping the hair at the front. Hyukjae sits absolutely still, staring straight at the older’s face, which was hovering so closely above him, taking in the way his eyebrows have furrowed in concentration, and how he’s subconsciously biting his lower lip, his movements slow and cautious so as to not make a mistake or accidentally hurt the younger.

 _Just a haircut._ He takes a couple of deep breaths _. Just a stupid haircut._

The snipping eventually ceases, and relieved that the whole ordeal is finally over, Hyukjae moves to take off the towel, but Yesung stops him.

“Aish, so impatient.” he chuckles. “We’re not quite done yet.”

So Hyukjae remains seated, wondering what more is necessary, when Yesung, without shifting from his position on the chair, picks up a bottle of hair mousse and rubs it together in his palms. With slow, steady movements, he runs his fingers through Hyukjae’s hair, this time creating even more contact between his hands and Hyukjae’s skin, as he massages his scalp, getting the mousse to the roots of his hair.

“It’ll keep your hair soft.” A small smile is tugging at Yesung’s lips, which are red and slightly moist from the biting. The sight stirs something in Hyukjae; heat creeps across his cheeks, and he hopes the tips of his ears won’t give away the nature of his thoughts.

The movement of Yesung’s hands slow down. “I think this should do it,” he says with finality, but Hyukjae suddenly realises that he doesn’t want to lose the feeling of the soft fingers weaving through his hair, and when Yesung starts to back away out of Hyukjae’s personal space, he makes a bold decision, one he didn’t know he had in him to do.

He catches a hold of Yesung’s left wrist, wrapping his fingers around it, just as the hand was making away it’s way past his ears.

“Hyukjae?” Yesung’s voice is as soft as always, but his eyes carry a hint of concern and confusion, as if saying _“what’s wrong?”_

But Hyukjae doesn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he pulls his hyung closer, slowly and carefully, until he can almost count the individual eyelashes on the other’s eyes; can feel his hot breath fanning over his burning cheeks.

Neither of them speak a word; ironically repeating the scene from earlier, where they’d held each other's eyes in a silent challenge, but this time the tension renders Hyukjae incapable of even thinking, his entire focus on his hyung’s eyes, the way their dark depths seemed to bore into Hyukjae’s soul; the intensity of them making him drop his gaze for a split second, back to the full, red, lower lip that’s driving Hyukjae mad with want, and when he looks up again, Yesung’s eyes seem to have softened, crinkling at the corners, as if having understood what the younger is thinking.

“Hyukjae,” he whispers, and this time it’s not a question; Hyukjae knows this because the fingers still in his hair have tightened, drawing his head back, and Yesung’s lips are on his, soft and warm, and Hyukjae’s hand loses his wrist in favour of cupping the older’s cheek. 

It’s as chaste as a kiss could be, and when they part, Hyukjae’s almost worried that that would be the end, that Yesung might change his mind after realising this whole thing is just so bizarre and sudden, but when his eyes meet the older’s once again, his fears dissipate at the tenderness he can find in them. 

Unsure of his next move, Hyukjae remains still, staring up at his hyung’s face until Yesung’s fingers caress his nape so delicately and lovingly that it sends a shiver down his spine, and he surges upward and out of the chair, capturing the older’s lips in a fierce and hungry kiss.

Yesung’s eyes widen in shock, but soon he’s kissing Hyukjae back with equal fervor, his fingers tangling in his hair, and Hyukjae’s hands find his waist, pulling him closer so that their bodies are almost touching. Yesung coaxes his mouth open, and Hyukjae lets out a soft moan when the older slips his tongue through, hot and slippery.

Several minutes pass, or it could be several hours for all Hyukjae knows, because all he’s focused on is the taste of Yesung’s lips, the way he smells, _of lavender body wash,_ Hyukjae registers faintly, and when they pull away for the second time, Yesung is breathing heavily, his lips swollen and redder than they were before, and all the blood from Hyukjae’s face rushes south.

_"Fuck"_

He thinks he only said that inside his head, but clearly not, judging from the smirk that was now playing on Yesung’s lips, and the way his eyes sparkle in amusement. Hyukjae wants to smack him. Or kiss him again. He doesn’t know. 

“So I take it that you liked the haircut?” 

“So what if I did?” he murmurs. “Shut up,” he says, before his hyung can even reply, and joins his lips to Yesung’s once more, effectively wiping off that stupid smirk on his face, and pushes him to his bed until they all but fall into it, Hyukjae flat on his back and Yesung half on top of him.

_As far as the results of haircuts go_ , he thinks, _this is definitely not the worst that could happen._

•···•···•  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if there are any mistakes I need to fix I am a dumbass and did not beta read also I am posting this at 1am so my brain isn't working.
> 
> But anyways, I hope you guys liked this short fic that I definitely did not spend way too much time on lmao ^-^


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